⚠️ Content Warning
This chapter contains depictions of physical assault, emotional trauma, and implied sexual violence. These events are portrayed with the intent to highlight the brutal reality of abuse and its psychological toll—not to romanticize or sensationalize them.
Please proceed with caution.
If you are sensitive to such themes or find them distressing, you may wish to skip this chapter or read it with support. Your well-being matters.
📝 Author's Note:
I have chosen to portray the scene through emotional and psychological impact rather than graphic detail, to ensure the focus remains on the trauma experienced by the victim—not on the abuser's actions. This story does not endorse or romanticize abuse in any form.
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Wangji opened his eyes, the world coming into focus in shades of muted grey and subdued colors. It was neither too bright nor too dark, but the dimness did little to ease the anxiety curling in his stomach. *What is this place?* he wondered, blinking rapidly, struggling to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. The rough texture of the cold floor pressed against his back sent a shiver down his spine, and as he attempted to get up, a wave of panic flooded through him.
His body was pinned down, held fast by numerous hands-rough, clammy grips squeezing tightly around his arms and legs. Horror courses through him like ice, the realization hitting him hard. He thrashed against the binds, every frantic movement only eliciting stronger grips, as though the shadows that lurked were determined to keep him under their control. His heart pounding against his chest with panic, each beat echoing in his ears.
Then a sudden stiffness seized him, freezing him in place as a hand, steady and unmistakably firm, moved to his face, fingers gripping his jaw in a tight, punishing hold. Wangji winced, pain blooming where the fingers dug into his skin, forcing him to look up. The familiar figure emerged from the gloom, his features sharpened by the low light: Wen Chao, the very face he had come to dread.
Wen Chao's eyes glinted mischievously, holding a dark delight in the power he wielded over Wangji. Wangji try to quell the rising panic that clawed at his throat. The air in the room felt heavy, thick with despair and the stagnant scent of sweat and fear that filled his lungs. He couldn't let them see his fear, couldn't show any sign of weakness- *but I can't fight back or can't even move due to restrains.*
"You bitch! I asked you politely, but you still dare to decline my proposal. You insulted me, the great Wen Chao! Now I will teach you a good lesson for this!" His voice dripped with malice, each syllable laced with a dagger-sharp edge that cut through the already tense air.
Wangji felt dread coil in his stomach as Wen Chao's fingers dug into his cheeks with a brutal intensity, leaving imprints that would likely blossom into bruises. *This is madness,* he thought, desperation bubbling up within him as sharp nails clawed at his delicate skin, drawing thin rivulets of crimson. Pain shot through him, but even more than the physical agony, it was the sheer violation of dignity that clawed at his spirit.
He thrashed against his captors, trying to break free, every instinct screaming at him to escape. *I have to get away!* He thought. But as he struggled, the hands holding him tightened like iron shackles, their grip unyielding and suffocating. Hot anger mixed with the swirling dread, causing his heart to race violently in his chest.
Just as he thought he might manage to push them away, a sudden, sharp pain blossomed across his cheek-a punch that landed with a sickening thud. The world jolted around him, stars exploding behind his eyes, blurring his vision. *How can they be so cruel?* The thought sliced through the haze of pain, feeling a matalic taste of blood in his mouth mixed with his own rage and helplessness flooding his mind. *I can't give in... I won't break in front of Wen Chao.*
The sting of humiliation mixed with the physical pain, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the weight of despair attempting to crush him. He gritted his teeth against the pain. Every bone in his body screamed for him to submit, but a flicker of defiance ignited within him. *I will not let Wen Chao have the satisfaction of seeing me yield.*
Those hands crawled over his body like insects, invading his personal space, making him feel nauseous. Every touch sent a wave of revulsion spiraling through him, and he fought the overwhelming urge to retch, the taste of bile rising in his throat. The sheer disgust gnawed at his insides, as if those hands were not just holding him down, but also tearing at the very fabric of his soul. Each unwanted caress seemed to dig deeper, leaving him feeling hollow, like a shell stripped of its essence.
He wanted to push them away, wanted to push out every disgusting thing that was filling him up, suffocating him from the inside. His tongue felt heavy, desperate to scream, yet no sound would escape his lips-the silence caught in his throat like a trapped animal. Tears streamed down his cheeks, blurring his vision, distorting the world around him into smudged shadows and indistinct shapes. *They have taken my voice...* he thought helplessly, each tear a silent testament to his pain.
His head spun, disorientation crashing over him in waves. The throbbing in his ears intensified, a relentless pounding that echoed the rapid rhythm of his heart. He felt as though the walls were closing in, pressing down on him with a weight he couldn't bear. He struggled to fill his lungs with air, but it was as if the air had been sucked away, each breath an exhausting endeavor. Those hands tightened their grip, as insidious as the darkness closing in around him.
*I can't breathe...* Each gasp became a frantic plea for salvation, but only despair teetered on the precipice of his awareness. Tears fell unbidden, a silent cascade as they dripped onto the cold floor, beyond his control. Guilt mingled with the horror of his situation, a breeding ground for shame that he couldn't shake off.
Slowly, the edges of his vision began to fade, details dissolving into a murky abyss until everything around him blurred into an indistinct dark. *Is this the end?* he wondered as unconsciousness beckoned, sweet and merciful.
Another figure loomed over him, an embodiment of malice. With a swift motion, the figure pushed their palm harshly against his neck, choking him, cutting off the air that he so desperately needed. Panic surged within him, the world around him twisting into a kaleidoscope of torment as he fought against the crushing grip. *I can't breathe... I can't-* His thoughts spiraled, growing frantic, each desperate gasp echoing like a death knell in the suffocating atmosphere.
With a sudden, brutal force, his head was slammed hard against the unforgiving floor, pain exploding through him like a lightning strike. Blood oozed from the fresh wound, warm and sticky, mingling with the foul, bitter taste in his mouth. The metallic tang of blood danced with the nauseating flavor of semen, a grotesque mixture that made him want to heave. *Is this how my life ends now?* He thought. He was drowning in a pool of violence and humiliation, unable to escape the reality that held him captive.
Time lost all meaning; seconds stretched into eternity as he lay there, gasping as his breath felt like it was tearing away from his very organs. *How much longer can I endure this?* His heart pounded painfully in his chest, each beat feeling weaker than the last, as though all the blood had drained from his body, leaving him a hollow shell. *It's like my essence is being pulled from me, leaving nothing behind-no strength, no hope.*
His vision flickered, dimmed by a haze of surreal agony, and he felt the sharpest edges of his soul being torn away, piece by piece. *This was more than just physical pain*, he thought helplessly against the tide of darkness threatening to swallow him whole. Each second that passed felt like a fresh violation, a reminder of everything he had lost. He was merely a vessel, his body twisted and used, sustaining the cruelty of those who sought to break him.
*What is the use of fighting?* The thought flickered in his mind, a faint ember struggling against a storm. But even that flicker felt dim under the weight of despair. In that moment of torment, as he wrestled against the inhibiting darkness, he couldn't help but wonder: *Would there ever be a way back to the light? Or had he fallen too far into the abyss?*